Sweet Sacrifice
by GiantKilleress
Summary: Status is everything in Galla. But one lady will have to chose between her nation and the man she loves. But will a ghost from her past return to complicate things further? Complete plot line and character re-haul.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclamer: ****I don't own any of this. it's all Tamroa Pierce. I am not making any money from this it is all simply for the joy of fellow Tamora Pierce fans.**

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Jacqueline of Isère fought to keep a straight face as the Gallan progress paraded through the main streets of Corus. The last time she had been here was when she was a child, and at that point in time she had no clue that she was actually the Crowned Princess of her country.

The people of the Lower City stared up in a state of awe at the progress of nobles from a foreign country. Everything on progress was covered in bright colours, banners flown showing the Gallan royal coat of arms. Ladies and lords all dressed in their finest riding gear as they paraded into the city. The shining steal from fully suited knights winked in the sunlight, calling attention to the thing they guarded with their lives. The heir to their throne.

Back in her home land she was a subject of great controversy. The council members all hated her, for she was a symbol of everything their kind hid. She was a symbol of adultery, seduction, black magic, and unclean blood. A horrid mix of half common and half royal. A mar on the pure bloodline that her father belonged to.

Her face was hidden inside of her hood; she dare not look up at the risk of someone recognizing her from her days as a child of the Rogue. Jacqueline's mother had been the Gallan queen of the Rogues. That fact alone had caused Jacqueline to travel to all ends of the Eastern kingdoms. She had been born with a strange knack for languages, it helped her mother greatly when discussing deals with other Rogues.

The princess' ladies in waiting had insisted on her pulling back her hair back into the traditional Gallan cap. Her dark long wild tresses alone were the ghost of her now deceased mother. The only thing truly linking her to her father was the undeniable eyes and bone structure: high flat cheekbones, and a narrow - but determined - jaw line and screamed Isère.

Her eyes were the piercing Isere blue. They were nothing like the famed Conte blue; that warm sapphire colour that caused minstrels to write love ballads about the un-obtainable Prince Jonathan of Conte. The Isere eyes were an icy piercing blue, as cold and stoic as a bitter winter's night. With a mere glance Jacqueline could send shivers down a man's spine, it was a talent her mother had used many times to manipulate several stubborn men.

The delicate lips were a soft pink, they matched her pert nose. She actually had a very strong regal look about her, one that was bred from years of lessons and hardship. Men pined to reach into her soul and crack out the wild part of her that lurked inside of those ice blue eyes and wicked grin. Women hated her for the confidence and strength she portrayed.

The city's streets were just as busy as they always had been, small children with rags as clothes running around the streets, some playing with friends others, stealing their dinners for the night. Street performers gathered crowds for their accomplices to steal purses off of the rich merchants from out of town. The vendors called out from their stalls trying to attract buyers, but it all just added noise to the lower city slum.

She looked up for a moment, soaking in the foreign culture. Trying to remember everything she had learned from her previous visits to Tortall and her etiquette lessons. The proper way to speak to nobles, the proper way to curtsy to her familiars – which was not to be confused with a curtsy to a kind lord – and to remember when to keep her mouth shut. Jacqueline's instructors should have known better then to assume that the princess would ever keep her opinions on politics to herself.

The royal council wished to breed Jacqueline into the perfect queen. The perfect queen to accompany a proper king. They sent her to Tortall in hopes of parading her around as the future monarch of Galla. The crowned jewel, only there for show and to find a good husband. But the pass rogue had a different plan on her agenda.

Jacqueline would never accept being the one behind the scenes. She always had to be the one calling the shots, and making herself known to others. The princess did not plan to take on a spouse once her father's health finally failed. She would reign her country on her own accord. She would make history as being the first common born woman to raise herself up into the station of reigning monarch.

Conservatives would have nothing to do with it. But Jacqueline knew that there were many more Progressives out there, willing to support her plan. She was a fighter, never had Jacqueline been the one to sit back and watch, she made things happen and acted on instinct.

Unfortunately Jacqueline still had many loose ends that she needed to tie up from her days of being a wild child, thrust into the light and station she would have never dreamed of. The Gallan had made many mistakes, one of which was getting into some serious debt with bad people. She was not in finical debt of any kind, but she was indebted into the service of a persuasive noble who had tricked her in a great time of sorrow.

"Milady, as we are leaving the slums and moving up into the cradle of the palace where all the rich merchants and nobles are, it would be wise to address them," a lord riding beside her informed her. He was her father's second in command, the head of his council of noblemen. Duke Louis of Chavilignon. He was the one who was in charge of this whole progress and he did not want Jacqueline to be there.

"Certainly I do not have to speak to them?" Jacqueline retorted looking up at him. Just pass his shoulder she thought she saw a familiar face. The strange man made eye contact with her for a split second, his hazel eyes boring into her as they widened in shock. He disappeared into the crowd before the Gallan princess had time to react.

"No! I insist that you do not speak at all. Keep your words to a minimum," he practically spat at her. Station was the only thing keeping him from throwing her from her saddle into the crowd of common people.

"I will speak all I want Duke Louis. You know that if my father heard about you trying to keep me in silence again he would have your titles," Jacqueline threatened, her voice was cold as she looked back at the old man before her. His pale face was flat and sour looking. It always held a look of complete distain for everything that was not tradition.

Her threat shut the noble up quickly; he looked away from her eyes. None of the conservative nobles could bare look at Jacqueline. She was of dirty blood and in their eyes never be a noble.

"By address the crowd I meant that you should wave and smile. Like a good princess," he shot back tartly, his back so straight it looked like a poll had set him like that.

"As the council wishes," Jacqueline replied coolly turning her gaze at her surroundings. She did as she had been told and smiled kindly at the people. But she refused to wave, she was not the council's puppet.

"When we ride into the palace you will be introduced to the King and Queen. You will then be sent to the rooms which you will stay in for the next year with your ladies in waiting where you will stay until dinner. Is that understood?" he informed her rudely. Jacqueline kept a straight face, her lips barely moved as she retorted.

"I will go where I please once my duties as Princess are complete. After retiring from pleasant banter with the local royals I plan to explore the palace grounds as I so please, without my infuriating train of ladies in waiting." Jacqueline's voice was still cuttingly cold.

"I suggest that you do as you are told Princess," the title was like poison on his tongue. He said in with distaste clear in his tone. "You are a long way from home and _daddy_ is not here to take care of you and your idiocy."

"I take care of myself Duke. You would do well to learn that fact," Jacqueline spat and pushed her horse up the line of nobles.

She worked her way up, in between two knights she often chatted with about various weapons and war tactics. They were the ones who taught her how to use a bow properly when they were squires. They were the only ones who simply saw her as an equal. Status and gender did not mean anything to these men. Jacqueline only wished that there were more men like them in the world.

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A/N: I did it. I took a horrid slice of my past writings and fixed all of it. I'm completely rewriting this story and I tweeked it's plot. Making it a bit more mature. All the other chapters besides this one haven't been updated yet, I'm sorry if it looks very choppy right now but I would suggest just ignoring the other chapters untill I rewrite those ones as well.

For everyone to fully grasp where I am now going with Jacqueline's character I'm going to give you guys the little pieces that make her. She is based very heavily on Anne Boelyn as they potrayed her in the Tudors. I always had an image of what she looked like in my mind and was dumbfounded when I first saw the show. The actress who played Anne Boelyn - Natile Dormer - is completely and totally what I viewed Jacqueline to look like. But now as I re-vamp her a bit to fit into my new plot line, try to imagine her with a touch more of a 'tough girl' edge to her. Basically Jacqueline is a big hunk of Natile Dormer's Anne Boelyn with a bit of Michelle Rodriguez.

Thank you for putting up my artist's temperment and my completely flakely and unconstant updates. (yes I realize that two years is a long time for an update).


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own any of it! So please don't sue me. Pretty please?**

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After a long afternoon of parading around the city, the Gallan embassy stood at the palace gates, slowly riding into in palace gates. Jacqueline looked up, how different it was to their own palace. This one was made entirely from grey stone, it looked ancient. It brimmed with the history of a nation, an emblem of its strength and solidity.

The Gallan palace was much fancier; the palace had been made out of brand new granite stone. The thing had been a project of her grandfather, finished by her father in the past ten years. It was new and grand, but nothing compared to this structure that held every story of its country in every stone.

Jacqueline wished that they had not destroyed their original palace. Yes it had been smaller, and older, but it held history. Their new one was a symbol of wealth. There was no story except for the simple boredom of her late grandfather.

"Remember. Keep your mouth shut. Nobody likes a woman who does not know her place," Duke Louis' harsh voice assaulted her ears as he intercepted her private thoughts.

"Nobody likes a noble who does not know how to show respect to his monarch," Jacqueline spat, sending him an icy-hot glare from the corners of her eyes.

"You are no monarch," he said coldly as he pulled his horse forward to work his way to the front of the progress. Jacqueline ground her teeth together in rage as she waited to be called on as they were greeted by the Tortallan king and queen.

Her back ached from sitting up straight in the saddle all day. It did not help that Louis had insisted on making her ride side saddle. It certainly was a good effect for the whole show, presenting a dainty princess who rode calmly astride while politely smiling at all whom she passed.

Jacqueline was certainly _not_ dainty. Her face might have had the look of a delicate noble lady, but her body stature was short and stocky. She was undeniably female, but she held a great amount of strength in her curves. Each curve had been built from muscle she had gained from being a child living alone on Gallan streets.

Her head lady-in-waiting always insisted on putting her into waist constricting corsets while she wore her dresses in court. It clashed greatly with the normally full skirts which were wide at the hip. Her ridiculous wardrobes often made her waist appear unnaturally thin, and her chest being pushed up abnormally high, but giving her the look that most men loved.

"I present to your majesties, Princess Jacqueline of Isere," she heard the Duke announce as one of her knight friends walked over to help her down. His name was Sir Henry of Colline. He was a tall sturdy built knight with unruly red curls and kind green eyes. She accepted his assistance and placed her hands on his shoulders and he put his on her waist, pulling her gracefully down from the saddle.

It was all for show, Jacqueline could full well dismount on her own. But it was a great deal harder for her when she was riding side saddle and not riding her normal mount. Jacqueline thanked Henry quietly as her ladies-in-waiting quickly followed her. She practically floated up to the monarchs, the crowd parting ways for her and most dipping down into bows. A smile was plastered on her face as she glided up to the main greeting hall.

"Your majesties," she greeted with a curtsy, going just low enough for protocol. "It is an honour to be graced with your presence and a privilege for our embassy to be hosted by your country."

"The honour is truly ours Princess Jacqueline. It is a gift to see the crowned jewel of another's nation," the king greeted politely with a kind smile. His smile even reached his eyes, making it seem sincere. He was good, Jacqueline thought to herself as she smiled as well.

"It is an honour that you chose to travel here along with your embassy," the queen included softly from the king's side. She was so frail in comparison to the strong overbearing royal beside her.

"How could anybody stay away from such a magnificent court? The only things I ever hear about Tortallan court is its truly amazing hospitally," Jacqueline gushed forcing an even wider smile. With a quick thought Jacqueline added on a side note. "Well, that all aside from their beautiful Queen."

The queen suddenly beamed at the princess' comment. Her face completely lit up, making her seem slightly less fragile.

"My goodness, you are such a dear! Darling would you mind if I showed the princess our palace personally?" The queen asked her king, her voice soft. Their love was so clear on their faces. It was known far and wide that the Tortallan monarchs were completely enamored with each other. Any minstrel would know a song about their stanch devotion to one another.

"Of course my love," he said with a smile before addressing Duke Louis again. "If you would not mind, our council wishes greatly to begin talks of a treaty."

"Certainly not your majesty. Let our council settle in and assemble and then we shall begin our talks," the Duke replied with the same sickly polite manner all nobles spoke in.

The whole progress broke off. Servants moved quickly to take personal possessions to Jacqueline's rooms. There were so many bags she knew that it would take several trips to have everything transported to the royal wing. The queen smiled brightly at Jacqueline and motioned for the princess to follow her. Was it a bad thing that she was already one of the queen's favorites?

The queen showed Jacqueline all the important places of the palace, introducing her to many nobles along the way. Jacqueline played the part of perfect princess, it would be better to be in the queen's favor.

"Well, here you will find our master collection of written works. It's open at all times, feel free to come at any time. Do you read much?" the queen inquired happily as they entered the palace's grand library. Jacqueline was starting to feel uncomfortable with the queen's affection being so… open.

"I do, quite often actually. I find the most interest in many political pieces, such as the newest works from Voltairre. Many pieces involving war tactics and general reflections on modern technological advances are of great interest to me as well. New looks on faith and how it effects our society as a whole? All fascinating…" Jacqueline started to rant. Some of the bigger works she used came out sounding a little strange as she had problems with the letter 'h'.

"Oh? Well those texts certainly are fascinating for… some. I myself prefer the themes found in fable literature," Queen Lianne admitted, taking Jacqueline through some of the more ancient looking shelves. The Gallan fought a frown as she realized how completely vapid the queen was. She scanned the shelves, just glancing over the pools of untouched knowledge. The princess' eyes almost fell out of her head as she spotted a certain title.

"The Tortallan library holds the only remaining copy of "Human Anatomy"? The _original_ text? In ancient rune?" Jacqueline exclaimed, carefully extracting the text from its place on the shelf. She was not surprised to find that it had a thick layer of dust on it.

"Well, it seems that we do!" the Queen exclaimed with a small laugh, her train of ladies-in-waiting joined in their giggles pulling the attraction of the other library dwellers. Jacqueline flipped through the pages, her eyes wide as they took in all the diagrams and side notes. "Do you study at all in healing, princess?"

"To say I study it is an understatement… I live and breathe healing…" Jacqueline confessed, completely absorbed in the text. She was answered by silence, the air around them filled with awkward energy. Jacqueline glanced up at the queen who towered over her. The queen's face was filled with a questioning air.

"Oh, forgive me your majesty. I have spoken brashly, excuse my boldness… Healing is of course my second love, besides of course my country and position of future leader of my nation," Jacqueline quickly covered up as she gingerly closed her new found treasure and placed it back on the shelf.

"You are forgiven my dear. All of us have our hobbies, I just simply surprised at your apparent passion for healing," the queen said, her voice soft. Jacqueline just smiled shyly, refusing to make eye-contact with the queen. The queen continued to look at Jacqueline, her eyes inspecting her.

"What is the extent of your healing knowledge?" the queen inquired. Jacqueline could not help but want to burst at the seams. She had been given an outlet to rant on about her passion, but she decided to restrain herself. Jacqueline did not think that the queen would be able to understand her love for something that was normally considered gruesome to most noblewomen.

"At our home palace I studied under our head healer who often let me assist on several life saving surgeries. I have had all training in the field, but I like to study old and new methods, like trying to reserve the use of the Gift for only special cases," Jacqueline explained, choosing her words very carefully.

"Surgery?" Lianne repeated, her face paling slightly.

"It is not as gruesome as it may seem. With proper sanitation and application of the Gift many lives can be saved without a healer having to tap into their life force, thus making the reserve of the Gift much more prolonged and the healer being able to save more patients in a smaller time frame," Jacqueline continued with a small smile. The ladies surrounding them just looked at Jacqueline like she had some sort of monster growing from her ears; those ladies included the queen herself.

"It is hard to explain when one does not heal themselves," Jacqueline defended herself, ducking her head slightly as she continued to search through the ancient titles.

"Oh!" the Queen suddenly exclaimed after looking down another aisle of texts. "Princess Jacqueline there is someone I would like you to become acquainted with!"

Jacqueline tore herself away from the works of writing and followed the queen who was rushing into the section containing ancient mage texts. The princess froze on the spot as she turned a corner and saw who the queen was rushing to.

"Roger dear! I simply must introduce you to the visiting princess from Galla. She is an absolute doll! I cannot wait to introduce her to Jonathan," the queen ranted absentmindedly as the duke looked up from one of his texts. His dark blue eyes met Jacqueline's icy ones and they widened in shock as well.

"Princess Jacqueline, I introduce you to my nephew, Duke Roger of Conte," she said happily as Jacqueline stood there in complete shock. Roger simply grinned widely as he bowed deeply.

"Your highness," he greeted, smirking evilly. Jacqueline certainly could not have been the only one who could see the hidden motive behind his smile.

"Your grace," Jacqueline replied after swallowing hard. She bobbed automatically into a curtsy. Her eyes never left the duke, she was much too aware of him for that. He moved forward to take her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles, his had a wild look about them.

"We meet again," he said, his voice strangely soft, like velvet. Jacqueline was not fooled for a moment by his facade. She returned his warmth with an icy glare as she pulled her hand away from his grasp. She would not be tricked by him for a second time.

"A pleasure like always," she replied, her voice flat with only a hint of coldness.

"You two are acquainted then?" Lianne inferred with large happy eyes and a large smile.

"Yes. Her highness and myself met from when I visited Galla once in search of a sacred scroll," Roger informed his aunt kindly. Jacqueline restrained from slapping him in the face at the blatant lie.

"Ah yes! I recall that. I wish for her to be introduced to court immediately! She is such a charming –" Lianne paused suddenly with a thought after glancing towards Jacqueline for a split second, "such an interesting woman."

"I do think that would be a wonderful idea. I remember her highness from her own court. She certainly knows how to speak to people." Roger silently implied something to Jacqueline, his words were picked carefully and were very subtle. His voice crawled uncomfortably under her skin as their gazes locked and they fought each other silently. Jacqueline fought with her icy glare and Roger with his shouldering wild eyes. To some they would be considered insane looking.

"Queen Lianne, if it is alright I do wish greatly to see the royal wing of the palace. I grow very weary from the ride here," Jacqueline suddenly spoke, breaking their linked stare. Lianne smiled politely.

"Of course my dear," Lianne replied moving through the maze of the library with unnatural grace. "Roger, I will see you tonight at the feast."

"Certainly your majesty," he replied with a low bow. Jacqueline spun on her heel and sped after the queen, daring not to meet his crazy eyes again that night. One encounter with the duke was enough to make her finished with insane nobles.

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A/N: IMPROVED! Much better, excuse the bits about surgury and such. But it is all key to parts that will happen later on in the story and it will explain a bit about how Jacqueline's brain works. I tried keeping it all as true to the books as possible, but other then the stuff from some of the Alanna books there really isn't much about healing in the book. I took peotic license and just tweaked things to fit later events that will happen in the story. As well, sorry if anyone disagrees with Lianne being an airhead but I always saw her as a very vapid queen. Just my opinion on her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer : I am not Tamora Pierce, she is wonderful and I have no where near the amount of genius that she does.**

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The Princess breathed a heavy sigh of relief once she had gotten rid of the queen and left her ladies in waiting in her study doing needlework. She locked the door to her bed chambers, opened the window as quietly and softly as she could. She hiked up her skirts and tied them above her knees, then stepped out of her window onto a wooden trestle covered in ivy. She climbed down until she had reached the stony pathway in a private courtyard. The princess ripped off the silly cap containing her hair and shook out long curly black tresses. She abandoned it in a rose brush and continued on, reveling in the stolen freedom.

Many would call her foolish for sneaking out without for armed guard. Jacqueline was stubborn and had convinced herself years ago that she would never need an armed guard. She could take care of herself. The Gallan yearned to return to the palace's library and dig into the ancient healing book she had discovered, but her conscience reminded her that Duke Roger lingered in the seemingly never ending shelves. She strolled down the pathway, taking note of any herbs or interesting plants she saw.

As she neared the exit of the garden, she heard some loud boisterous men on the other side of the gate. Curiosity took over as she neared it, daring to hide around the corner and listen to their conversation.

"Mother's already began to rant and rave about this Gallan princess who is – quote – 'just simply divine! So intelligent and charming really, oh, you simply must meet her'." The deep masculine voice raised an octave, mimicking a lady's voice.

"Auntie has been known to get… enthusiastic about guests," another voice reasoned, this one sounding slightly more cautious. She heard a snort and a chuckle from two different sources.

"Enthusiastic is one way to describe it. Another is 'to obsess'," the original voice retorted bitterly.

"Cheer up Jon." There was another deeper voice, accompanied by a muffled thump on the shoulder. "I'm sure she's just as wonderful as your mother says."

"Oh you think so? Do you know what say about her? As cold as ice. Some say she's stark raving mad," the first voice continued to complain. Jacqueline knew they were speaking of her but the mystery man's comments came without surprise for the princess.

"Since when do you believe in what the court gossips say?" A fourth and higher pitched voice asked mockingly.

"Since I am to – somehow - impress and entertain a complete stranger."

"Stop wallowing and just go and meet her already. She seemed nice enough earlier with the monarchs." The second voice reasoned once again.

"She is absolutely beautiful as well," the deep voice chimed in sounding breathless. The men all started to make a big ruckus and 'oh' over his comment. Jacqueline itched to see what was happening beyond the gate and leaned into it hoping to catch a glimpse of what was going on.

"You barely saw her with her hood up!" one of them commented, a few thumps followed the comment.

"I saw well enough!" the voice protested

"Raoul fancies the princess he's never seen or met!" someone teased as the ruckus continued and there were a few protesting sounds as well. Jacqueline leaned a bit further than planned, not realizing that the gate was not locked and shut like she had expected. Her eyes widened as the gate swung open, taking Jacqueline along with it. The princess tumbled forward as she lost her footing and fell to the ground beneath her. She hit the ground with an 'oof' and was quickly flanked by the forth men.

"Milady, are you well?" one of them asked kneeling and offering his hand to her. The princess' face felt warm, she was embarrassed beyond belief as she refused his hand and rose gracefully on her own. She dusted off her gown and met the men's eyes one at a time taking in her surroundings.

The four were nobles. That much was easy to tell from their proper hose and tunics. The clean shoes that fit were also a big hint. They all were taller than her, save one redheaded boy who looked to be the same height if not shorter. All of them were knights, also easy to tell by their strong builds and youth.

The one who had offered his hand had starling blue sapphire eyes and was dashingly handsome with strong bone structure and wide, pleasing, mouth. Jacqueline dropped in a curtsy recognizing immediately the crowned prince of Tortall. He was easy to pick out in a crowd with the telltale Conte features.

There were two others, a short redhead who was the smallest of the group and a taller brown haired, rather plain looking fellow, albeit handsome. Neither stuck out in her mind as she rose and locked eyes with an impossibly tall man with tanned and roughened skin from working long hours in the sun. He had unruly coal black curls, strong bone structure with a squared jaw and smoldering onyx coloured eyes. She felt the breath be taken from her lungs as her heart's beat quickened and her knees suddenly felt weak. No men ever had had that effect over the princess.

"Just fine, thank you," she replied coolly, ripping her eyes away from the tall man's and facing the prince once again. "I apologize for interrupting. You see, my cap had gotten blown off by the wind, and I leaned against the gate hoping it would give me some height. Apparently quite the opposite happened and I ended up with my face in the mud. I fear that my cap has been captured by the wind as well, as I can no longer see it in the trees above us."

The prince chuckled politely, bowing as the others followed suit. "Forgive us milady, for we should have known a lady in need before tragedy stuck."

"Tragedy? Since when has falling a few feet with no injury ever been considered a tragedy?" The prince laughed again, much more outright this time. Jacqueline smirked; clearly the prince was pleased with her wit.

"I fear that for many a lady it has been," the brown haired one joked, grinning. The other men laughed along wholeheartedly. Jacqueline couldn't help but feel a little left out from an inside joke of sorts.

"Allow me to introduce myself and my comrades. I'm Prince Jonathan of Conté; this is my squire, Alan of Trebond. As for these two oafs, they go by Sir Gareth of Naxen and Sir Raoul of Goldenlake," the prince replied swiftly and informally. Perhaps they hadn't realized that she was the princess they had been talking about yet. She subtly eyed the man called Raoul, silently wishing that he had been the prince she was meant to woo instead.

She dipped into another curtsy smiling politely at the Prince as she did so. "Princess Jacqueline _d'_Isère, pleased to make your acquaintance, your highness."

The men looked at her, mouths agape as the squire and two knights fell into deep bows and the prince into a higher one.

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you," he replied smoothly after straightening and his friends remained low. Her took her hand and kissed politely as protocol required.

"Please, do stand straight, I was never one for the bowing and curtsying," Jacqueline confessed suddenly. Her voice was strong but friendly. After the trio had straightened out, she noted that the one named Raoul was blushing deeply. She grinned looking up at him subtly. He was clearly worried and embarrassed that she had probably overheard their conversation.

"It was truly a pleasure meeting all of you but I'm afraid that I must depart."

"Making for a rather hasty retreat, princess?" Prince Jon teased. Jacqueline smirked her icy blue eyes dancing wickedly.

"Not so much as a retreat. You see, I really should not have run into anyone," Jacqueline confessed, taking a few steps closer to the gate she had fallen through. The eyes of the men around her followed her every move.

"Oh? Why is that?" the prince inquired, looking legitimately interested in the princess. She smiled slyly, taking a few small, graceful steps towards the garden's entrance.

"Well, let's just say that my ladies in waiting, my guards, and your mother, all think that I am in my rooms at the moment… when, as you see, I, very clearly, am not." The men around her eyes popped, their jaws going a little slack. The red-head still seemed unimpressed, skeptical even, the other men, looked impressed under their initial shock. She cleared her throat delicately, turning to face them with a small, wicked grin. Her eyes were bright and full of a daring and mischievous glint to them.

"A pleasure meeting you all, I trust that I will be seeing you all at the feast later on tonight," she said with a note of finality as the men all stumbled to find the proper courtesies to respond with.

"What a woman..." she heard the very distinctive voice of Sir Raoul from her side of the gate. All the men burst into a chorus of teasing, mixed with encouragement. Something clamped down on her chest, yet she suddenly felt lighter on her feet.

The princess could not help the grin that broke out on her face before stepping back into the gardens and shutting the gate behind her. She looked to the skies to see how much time had passed. An entire hour, she sprinted off towards the windows to her chambers, surely her entourage knew that she was missing by now. The woman tried to get her head back onto the thought of her current tasks at hand here, and off of the dark eyed knight named Raoul.

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A/N: Long time no update, huh? Well, here it is! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Feedback is welcomed and loved!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Refer to previous chapters.**

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Jacqueline was nearly through the window and into her rooms as someone knocked on her bedroom door. An involuntary gasp escaped her lips as she then fell through her open window, tumbling to the stone floor. She swore under her breath as she landed, hard, onto her knees and hands. "Your highness?" a voice called from behind the door as she scrambled up, trying to right herself.

"Princess?" they called again, sounding a little worried as they knocked once more. Once Jacqueline was standing again, she attempted to smooth out her skirts and hair as she rushed to answer the door.

"Yes?" she answered the knocking, opening the door just a crack.

"Your highness," the voice greeted, a slight mocking tone to his voice and a smirk playing at his lips. The man standing behind the door, was a knight and captain of her guard. Jacqueline couldn't help but roll her eyes at the sight of the man, who was a childhood friend of hers. Sir Henry of Colline stood before her as she opened the door slightly, revealing that he was in full dress armour. Though the knight was a friend of hers, by purely platonic nature, she couldn't deny how dashing the tall, burly red headed man looked. It was no secret that many of the ladies of court fawned over him, now more than ever with his recent promotion to commander of her guard. It was more a dress title than anything, but a prestigious one at that.

Henry was, in fact, one of the youngest men to ever have held the title. Jacqueline had been thrilled to hear that one of her close friends had gotten the job, as opposed to some stuffy Lord who hadn't seen a battlefield since his days as a squire. Of course, the princess had given his name to her father, the king, and they had both observed his accomplishments at the tourneys held in Galla throughout the past year.

The knight himself had no clue that Jacqueline had given his name to her father, and she planned on keeping it that way. He had earned the position on his own accord, but hearing that she had possibly had a hand in him getting there would be too big a blow for his ego. The princess had no want of dealing with the inevitable blow out that would soon follow.

"Henry, please, no formalities. You know that," Jacqueline insisted, her voice low so that any prying eyes couldn't hear. Most nobles of the Gallan court found that Jacqueline's dislike for the use of titles was only another indicator that she was an unfit heir to the throne. They thought that it was merely a sign of her being too comfortable with being 'common'.

The handsome knight merely smirked, a knowing look on his face as she sighed in frustration. Henry always insisted on using her titles, for the mere reason that it bothered her immensely. "Of course, your highness. I am here simply to remind you that the feast being held in your honour is started soon. You were being so quiet, I wanted to ensure that you were still here."

The princess scoffed, a look of mock hurt on her face. "Me? Leave my chambers? Preposterous, a princess would never do such a thing. As you see, I am here, clearly," she insisted, the look on her face was straighter than any gamblers.

In reply, Henry merely raised a pair of ginger brows, and - rather boldly - reached out and plucked an ivy leaf from her loose, raven black curls. The knight began to grin wickedly as the look of realization dawned on the princess' face as she quickly snatched the leaf away from him before anyone else saw the evidence of her little adventure. "I wonder how that got there? In your plantless chambers?"

"Oh, shush! So what if I climbed out the window to get some fresh air. I'm suffocating in here!" the princess whispered with a dramatic flare as she hung to the doorframe, rolling her eyes to the back of her head and mimicking fainting. The knight merely chuckled and shook his head at her theatrics.

"The queen sent a message, informing you that the feast tonight was a rather large one. I fear that your favourite person sent you one as well, commanding that you," the knight held up a finger to motion for her to wait as he paused to unfold the note which he had been holding in his hand. "'Behave and dress appropriately, you are to be sitting with the crowned prince and any shenanigans will be punished.'" The knight finished speaking with a look of mocking fear, his eyes wide and mouth in the shape of a small 'o'. Jacqueline snatched the note from him and reread it, making sure that he wasn't just teasing her.

The princess rolled her eyes as she crumpled the note and tossed it to the closest waste bin in her rooms. "Have my handmaids draw me a bath. The journey was long and I have yet to soak after the ride." The tone that Jacqueline's voice suddenly held was one that did not come easily to most, and was one that normally was heard when passed edicts of law, or commanding great armies.

When the princess looked back up at the knight before her, she noticed that he was smiling down at her in earnest. "What?" she demanded to know, her voice slipping back into her previous mocking tone. Henry merely shook his head, trying to hide the smile that had appeared.

"Oh nothing, simply me being in awe of how easily you can switch from Jacqueline to 'the crowned princess of Galla'," was his short reply as he shook his head. "As your highness commands," he said quickly as she began to defend herself , his voice still holding that tone of mocking that he seemed to reserve just for her.

She let out a rather un princess-like noise of frustration at his words, muttering curses under her breath for his insistence of being such a nuisance.

* * *

The bath was put together quickly, and the moment Jacqueline's body hit the warm of the water she let out a soft groan of pleasure. Steam still rose from the oil infused water, one of her new handmaids made a sound to warn her of the heat, another more experienced one merely shushed her and let their future monarch hop into the scalding hot water. The heat seemed to make the stresses of court, and of her travels just melt away. Normally, the princess hated being waited on hand and foot. The constant presence of people just exasperated her. But, it was times like these where she truly appreciated the maid washing her hair and massaging her head and neck while doing so.

Jacqueline was completely serene in that moment, but it was a short lived serenity, as one of her handmaidens spoke up inquiring what she was planning on wearing to the feast that evening. The princess opened her eyes then, realizing that she couldn't simply remain in the bath all night like she had just planned to do only seconds ago. She hummed softly to herself, and then sighed as she scrubbed her skin with a bar of lovely smelling soap.

"Truthfully, I had given it no thought... Marie, what do you think? You always know best when it comes to these sorts of things," Jacqueline spoke, her voice was soft and kind. The princess truly was grateful to her little band of maids, without them she would simply walk around the palace in a potato sack.

"Were you wishing for a more Tortallan look? Or a more traditional Gallan look, my lady?" the handmaiden closest to her right spoke. Jacqueline hadn't been able to get her handmaids to call her simply by her name, but she had at least been able to talk them down to simply calling her 'my lady' as opposed to 'your highness' every moment they spoke with her.

The princess' eyes moved to a petite looking lady working on preparing her vanity for the chore of styling her hair and applying that evening's face paint. "Catherine, you're knowledgeable in court on matters. Would it be better of me to showcase Gallan fashions tonight, or to style myself more Tortallan?"

The lady in waiting looked startled to have been addressed, but nodded her head in a slightly curtsy in acknowledgement of being spoken to. The woman was a small thing, but had a stern face and a no-nonsense attitude. She knew everything there was to know about any court, be it Gallan or foreign. She was by far a favourite of the princess. "I have overheard Queen Lianne insisting that her courtiers look as Gallan as possible. My suggestion would be to honour that and dress in the Gallan fashion as well."

The princess dropped her hands into the water with a loud 'splash'! Clearly she was dreading the thought of donning another corset and having to haul around a skirt three times her size. "Very well, how about the blue one? With the sapphires? The least we can do is honour their royal family by wearing their colours. All the maids in the room agreed, Jacqueline smiled kindly to them all as she dunked her head beneath the now lukewarm water of her bath.

Jacqueline briefly contemplated just staying below the surface and not coming back up, then she wouldn't have to wear anymore of those Gods awful gowns. She broke the surface of the water then with a gasp for air after holding her breath for so long. None of the other women in the room seemed phased by the princess' odd behavior, seemingly used to it.

"Very well," she spoke as she rose from the water. The strangest part of adapting to being a princess was the fact that barring sleep, you never got to be alone. Even when you washed the room was full of a group of women, only one of them there to actually aid you in anyway. The rest merely sat there and 'attended'. It was the strangest custom, and the princess would never get used to it, but luckily she wasn't shy of showing off her body.

"Ready the blue gown, and the sapphire jewelry to accompany it. Ladies, the rest is in your hands," Jacqueline said with a note of finality as she wrapped a drying cloth around herself and squeezed the excess water from her hair. All the women around her went off to fetch what needed to be fetched, giving the princess a moment of being alone as she sighed. She silently wished that she could just spend the night curled up in her chambers, alone.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I know I haven't updated in like two years. This chapter isn't even really anything interesting, useful or plot driven but I'm just gonna put it there because of reasons.**


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